The Sacrificial Soul
by TimeTravellingCupcake
Summary: Amy heard stories about the demons who fed on innocent blood, but she never believed that he could be one of them. Immortality does a lot to a person; some believe it even destroys souls. Will Amy sacrifice hers for love...or will it be destroyed in the aftermath of a mistake? Kol/OC
1. Prologue: Out of the Box

**Disclaimer:** I don't own TVD or any of its characters. Especially Kol, which makes me quite sad. Good news, I do own my OC, Amy. Score one for me!

Prologue- Out of the Box

_A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees dawn before the rest of the world. –_Oscar Wilde

**Mystic Falls, Virginia- Present Day**

It felt like Amy was falling, falling and yet…she was floating too. Drifting. How long had she been drifting and floating and falling for? Too long. She used to count the seconds, but lost count eventually. Everyone gets tired of counting eventually, especially when they are already asleep. How long was it since she had last seen the light of day? Sometimes, she found her thoughts wander to _him_; why hadn't he just killed her? He took away the only thing she had to live for; why hadn't he just spared her of this torture?

There was a soft caress down the side of Amy's face, and she lifted a hand to swipe it away; the motion was futile because the sensation remained. It was followed soon after by a whisper in her ear; the sound was so soft, it sounded like white noise. Her eyes roamed across the darkness, looking for the source of this…disturbance, but she couldn't find anything. The whisper became louder, and the caress more prominent, and soon the endless blackness that had always reminded her of night had faded to a blue-grey.

"Time to wake up sweetheart," the whisper turned into a deep, velvet-smooth voice. She didn't recognize this man's voice; it didn't belong to her brothers, or her father, or anyone she had ever met. The dull ache that her body had been accustomed to along with the darkness, became more intense, almost like a friction that rubbed her veins together in a scorching pain.

"No," Amy groaned; she tried to shake her head and make the pain go away, but her joints felt extremely stiff.

"You're going to need some more blood." Blood. Blood? No. She didn't want any blood; she didn't need it. She hadn't had any blood in such a long time. Then, why was her mouth suddenly so dry? And why did her gums hurt so terribly?

Something very thin and somewhat cylindrical was pushed between her lips and as Amy inhaled, blood unexpectedly filtered into her mouth; she began coughing and a cool hand went to her forehead, pushing her hair back soothingly.

"It's alright," the man said as Amy coughed. The odd object was pushed to her lips again. "You need to drink; take it easy this time. Nice and slow." She lay there, and experimentally took another breath; as soon as the blood hit her tongue, Amy's senses came alive. She could hear breathing and she could smell dust and mildew; the blood overwhelmed her, though, with its sweet, coppery taste. There was something very odd about it, though; it lacked life.

Life began pumping through her body again with every mouthful of blood she consumed; the pain slowly dissipated and she felt invigorated. Amy was somewhat disappointed as the odd, blood-giving apparatus was being taken away.

Slowly, Amy opened her eyes and observed her surroundings. The room was dark, lit only by candlelight that flickered in and out every now and again. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, the stiffness in her joints becoming less with every moment, and she looked around.

Boxes? The room was filled with oblong, wooden boxes that resembled coffins. Why would someone keep coffins in a room such as this? She pushed her hair away from her eyes and tried to pull her legs up, but her knees hit something. As she looked down, my eyes widened in shock; _he_ put her in a coffin?

"Hey, hey, hey," the man's voice alerted Amy of his presence. She spun her head in his direction—regretting it as she began to feel lightheaded—and she was met with icy blue eyes. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, smirking slightly; his arrogant face sickened her.

"I need to get out of here," she said quickly, lifting the lower lid of the coffin to free her legs of their confines.

"Now wait just a minute," the man was suddenly beside her, slamming the lid shut. "You and I need to have a little chat."

"I appreciate your help, sir," she began. "But I'm afraid you're going to have to let me leave; if you could please remove yourself from my…personal space, I would be eternally grateful."

"Well, _I'm_ afraid that I can't do that," he replied. "Not unless you answer some of my questions."

"Well I apologize then," Amy told him sincerely.

"For what?" he asked.

"For this," she replied. He frowned for a moment, but he wasn't quick enough as Amy placed her hands on either side of his head and turned with as much force as she could, snapping his neck easily. The man's body dropped lifelessly to the ground and she pulled the lid of the coffin open once more.

Amy struggled to get out of the box and into a standing position, but once she did, her legs shook considerably.

She needed to get out of this place. She needed to run. She needed to find Niklaus…and she needed to kill him.

**A/N: **Well I hate writing introductions; you don't know how painful that was. I know where I want my story to go and how I want it to begin, but until I get that momentum, I'm at a bit of a standstill. I hope it grabbed your interest, though, because it will become way better in the future, I promise! Reviews are love; let me know what you thought.


	2. Springtime Sanctuary

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own TVD or any of its characters. I own a TV. Does that count for anything? No? Maybe next time…

Chapter 1- Springtime Sanctuary

**Viking Settlement, New World- 11****th**** Century**

"Amy," she could faintly hear Cristofer call her through the dense foliage. His voice was usually very powerful, but she figured that he had to be completely off her trail if he sounded like that.

The forest was peaceful and quiet; Amara—affectionately called Amy by her two older brothers—loved nothing more than to wander through the trees and pick flowers and just sit by the falls and think. It was a different environment than her family's estate or her mother's garden or the market; it was much more calming. There was always noise at home; whether her father was scolding her brothers for being foolish or careless during the morning hunt, or her mother was entertaining one of the woman who lived across the village; there was never a moment of complete silence unless Amy was the only one there.

A cool spring breeze blew through the trees, ruffling the skirt of Amy's dress as she sat on a flat rock; her eyes focused the needlework she was currently working on. She took a deep breath and continued embroidering; the scent of apple blossoms permeated the air and she was reassured that she wouldn't be found quite yet. The small patch of apple trees was tucked deep in the forest, on a slight slope, and she had found it one day by chance while exploring; her brothers had yet to find it themselves, thanks to her mastery at leaving false trails for them to follow. She often pondered the notion of picking a bunch of the blossoms to bring back to her mother as an apology for disappearing, but knew that it would immediately alert them to her favorite hiding spot.

A branch snapped behind her and Amy's head snapped over her shoulder immediately, frantically searching to see what had caused it. She stayed silent and waited; if Cristofer had stepped on a branch, she wouldn't have heard it this far away. Had her mother sent Alexander to find her as well? Could it be—

"It's nothing," Amy muttered to herself as she focused again. "Those stories are getting to me." Alexander had loved to scare Amy with stories of demons and monsters when she was younger; even now, at 16-years of age, they still lurked and haunted at the very corners of her mind, jumping out when they found it convenient. Their mother had chastised him many times over the years for creating such mockeries of the things she believed to be true.

"Why else would we have to seek shelter in the caves during every full moon?" Helena explained whenever her children mocked her.

There was a rustling some ways away and Amy frowned, but concentrated on her work; she wouldn't fall for the tricks her mind played on her; the only things beyond the line of blossoming apple trees were harmless forest animals.

Right?

There was a sudden, sharp tug at Amy's hair and she jumped in shock, falling to the blossom-laden forest floor as a result. The air was suddenly filled with heavy laughter and Amy pushed herself off the ground with an annoyed sigh.

"Bekah!" she exclaimed as she saw her fair-haired friend lean against a tree trunk for support as she struggled for breath. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You should've heard yourself," Rebekah said, gasping for air hungrily. "And the look on your face—" She pointed to Amy and began laughing again. The brunette huffed and dusted the crushed petals off her dress.

"It isn't funny Bekah! I could've died of fright!" Amy exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," Rebekah apologized, trying to sound sincere. "I was coming to find you, but when I saw that you were being so…pensive, I had to take the opportunity. And don't yell," she said, pointing once again. "You would've done the same thing had you been in my position."

Amy rolled her eyes and picked up her embroidery, sitting back down on the rock. She and Rebekah had been friends for…too long, it seemed. They had become friends quite reluctantly, thanks to Alexander's and Finn's friendship, and their parents' shared wariness for the werewolves in the village.

Despite not being too fond each other at first, they decided that they had no other choice, especially since neither of them wanted to spend their entire day alone, or with their brothers, or worst of all, with their mothers; besides, most of the other girls in the village were either too old, like Tatia—who they deemed quite haughty, despite her scandalous behavior—or too young, like Kyra—who still clung to her mother's skirt…desperately. Eventually, they found they had certain things in common, like a fondness for making up stories, and exploring, and gossiping…and before they knew it, their mothers had to drag them home for supper.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Rebekah asked sitting next to her friend. "You said you would be at the market today, and when I asked your mother, she sent Cristofer to find you."

"Yes," Amy sighed in reply. "I heard him calling for me. Poor man is clueless when it comes to following tracks; good thing he goes hunting with Father or Alexander…otherwise I'm sure he would have killed himself by now."

"Just because he's clueless…it doesn't mean that he isn't kindhearted," Rebekah said, then grinned. "Or handsome." Amy gawked at her.

"Oh…Bekah, no," she groaned. "Please, keep whatever thoughts you are about to blurt out to yourself."

"Think about it, Amy," Rebekah said excitedly. "If I were to wed Cristofer, you and I would be sisters."

"Please stop. I can't even bear to think of it."

"It's either that…or you could wed one of my brothers." Rebekah smirked mischievously. "Finn is too old for you. Niklaus and Elijah are pining over _Tatia. _Kol isn't spoken for. Or Henrik…although, I'm quite certain he still thinks girls are frightening."

"You'll be the death of me one of these days," Amy muttered, attempting to ignore her friend. "Where do you even come up with these ideas?"

"I don't want to die some lonely, dried-up old woman," Rebekah replied, scrunching up her nose in disgust.

"You're more than a year younger than I am!" Amy exclaimed. "If you're worried about dying a lonely old woman—"

"You've forgotten dried-up," Rebekah interjected.

"Yes, alright. A lonely, _dried-up_ old woman. If you're worried about that, then I guess I already have one foot in the grave!" Rebekah smiled.

"I'm glad you think that. We need to start thinking of ways to attract suitors."

"Bekah, I'm not even of age yet!"

"We'll need to do something with your hair," Rebekah continued, ignoring her friend's comment.

"Why?" Amy asked, looking up to the heavens for an answer.

"Amara!" The shout was loud and caused both girls to jump. Cristofer's voice was quite resonant now; there was no anger in his voice—neither of Amy's brother's had much of a temper—but there was a deep undertone of annoyance. He had even called her by her given name, and Amy knew that he wasn't in a joking mood when he did that. "Come out now; you've had your fun. Mother wants you!"

"The messenger calls," Amy whispered, standing up. "We must answer." Rebekah stood too and linked arms with her, and they made their way out of the small circle of trees and down the hill.

Cristofer scoffed as he looked around, hand resting on the hilt of his sword, fingers tapping the metal impatiently. While he loved his little sister dearly, her disappearing act was getting old, and besides that, her skill at being untraceable was getting better. If baffled him sometimes; Alexander could find her with no troubles at all, but whenever he went on a search, all he would get were misleading footprints and silence, then out of thin air she would—

"Looking for something brother?" Amy's voice startled him. He spun on his heel and drew his sword; needless to say, he grumbled in irritation when he saw his sister and her friend standing just yards away, laughing at him.

"I hate it when you do that," he scolded as he sheathed his sword again. "Now come; mother wants you. She has, most likely, already left the market."

"Relax, Cristofer," Amy replied with a roll of her eyes. "Mother doesn't need me for anything; she only wanted for you to find me because Bekah asked about me." Amy nodded to her now-blushing friend. "No need to fret."

"I apologize for any inconvenience," Rebekah said meekly.

"You needn't worry; you should get home as well," Cristofer told her. "We will escort you home, seeing as it is quite dangerous to be out in the forest alone." Amy felt that last bit was directed at her, but said nothing.

"I'll be fine, but thank you anyways," Rebekah nodded and turned to Amy. "I shall see you soon Amy."

"Have a good evening, Bekah," Amy replied with a smile. Rebekah smiled back and wandered off in a seemingly random direction. Amy turned to look at her brother, who held his hand out to her; she scoffed and shook her head, then took off in the direction of their home.

"A thank you would be nice from you as well, Amara." Cristofer called after her. "Or at least an apology for my troubles."

"You are my brother," Amy laughed. "I don't have to apologize for your terrible tracking ability." She looked over her shoulder and smirked at him. "That is your fault alone."

Cristofer shook his head and watched his sister disappear from sight.

"Do not stray too far; father will have my head if I lose you again!"

**A/N: **Hi again. Chapter two…or one, I guess, since the first part was a prologue. I'm really anxious to see what you guys think of it. Please, go easy on me…but not too easy. No action in this one…but it is the beginning of Amy's story. Leave a review and let me know what you think; I'd be really grateful!

Thanks for reading!


	3. Death and Peaches

**Disclaimer:** I don't own TVD. I own Amy, though. And Cristofer. And Alexander. And Kol…Ah! You caught me. I wish I owned Kol, though. *wistful sigh*

Chapter 2- Death and Peaches

**Viking Settlement, New World- 11****th**** Century**

"Good morning Mama," Amy greeted sleepily as she walked into the kitchen. She immediately went for the pot of porridge that sat by the hearth to keep warm.

"Good morning dear," Helena looked over her shoulder for a moment, then went back to preparing the fish to be smoked that afternoon.

"Where's Father? Has he left to hunt already?"

"No," Helena replied. "He left early to collect more firewood."

"Do you need any help today?"

"Why do you ask? Have you anything special planned?"

"No," Amy replied. "I'm just trying to be a good daughter."

"Hmm," Helena smiled and kissed her daughter's temple as Amy reached for the pitcher of cider. "You already are." Amy sat at the table, content that her mother thought so.

"If you'd like, you could go and look for berries; I believe there are even some plum trees by the falls that are just about ready to be picked."

"How wonderful," Amy smiled.

"What's wonderful?" Alexander asked as he and Cristofer entered the kitchen.

"Amara's going to collect fruit today," Helena replied.

"You're letting her in the forest _again_?" Cristofer asked incredulously. "You know how she is."

"How I am?" Amy scoffed. "Can I help it if the best spots for berry picking are deeper in the forest, brother."

"She does have a point," Alexander remarked as he sat down with his own breakfast.

"Mother," Cristofer whined. "They're picking on me."

"It's all in good fun, dear," Helena assured him. Amy rolled her eyes; Cristofer could act like such a child at times. "Besides, Amara promised that she wouldn't stray too far. Isn't that right?" Amy looked up from her porridge with wide eyes.

"But Mama—"

"I don't want you getting hurt," Helena stopped her. "You don't know how much I worry when I have to send your brothers looking for you."

"But Mama—"

"Promise me you won't stray too far."

"Alright," Amy sighed.

"And that the furthest you'll go is to the falls." Amy took a breath to protest, but Helena glared at her.

"Alright." Helena smiled and returned to her fish. Amy glared at Cristofer. "I hope you're happy."

"Immensely," he smirked.

"Cristofer, son of Lazarus," Alexander chuckled heartily as he brought his cup of cider to his lips. "Destroyer of all things fun." He and Amy watched Cristofer scowl; deep down, Cristofer was laughing right along with them.

* * *

Hours later, Amy found herself trekking through the forest, a small basket in hand; so far, she had made good progress on finding the fruits and berries her mother had asked for. She had, as she promised her mother, stayed away from all of her usual hiding spots, and kept to the visible clearings and pathways.

As Amy neared the river, she spotted a few peach trees just yards away from her; if it were later in the year, she knew of a patch of pear trees that provided enough fruit for the entire village, but she rarely picked fruit at the end of spring because she was busy helping her mother with the herb garden. She approached the tree and picked one of the peaches that were dangling low enough for her to reach; she brought the peach up to her nose and inhaled deeply.

"Perfect," she smiled, pleased, and then placed it in her basket amongst the berries she had already collected. Amy looked back up and sighed when she found that most of the other peaches were just out of her reach. Determined, she stood on her toes and stretched as tall as she could; unfortunately, just as the peach broke from the branch, it slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground.

Just as Amy bent down to retrieve the fallen fruit, a faint whooshing sound passed by her head. She wasn't expecting to find an arrow embedded in the tree trunk, just inches from her face, when she moved to stand up; Amy went wide-eyed, and the peach slipped from her fingers once again, hitting the forest floor with a dull thud. There was a rustling of leaves and Amy stood straight, instinctually taking a few steps backwards.

From the dense foliage emerged a young man, bow drawn in his hands and aimed directly towards her; it felt like time had stopped for a split second, and Amy could have sworn she saw the man's fingers twitch, as if to release his hold. And then, his grip relaxed and he lowered the bow, only to stare at Amy with frustration.

"The forest isn't a safe place for little girls," he scowled. "Didn't your mother ever tell you?"

"Excuse me?" Amy scoffed in disbelief. The young man ignored her, but stalked past her to pull his arrow out of the tree. "Didn't your father ever teach you to keep your eyes open while hunting; you could've killed me."

"I don't know whether it is a blessing or a shame that I didn't," he remarked with a condescending smirk. Amy glared at him and walked around to the opposite side of the tree to continue her task. She stood on her toes and stretched upwards once again, thankful that this peach was easily accessible, and wouldn't slip from her grasp like the previous one. And it didn't…because just as she was about to pull it from the branch, another hand surpassed hers and quickly plucked the peach free.

Amy turned on her heel and watched, dumbstruck, as the man smirked at her once again, then took a bite out of the peach. He stared at her, unwavering, with a glimmer of amusement in his gaze.

"You're tiny," he said finally, breaking the silence.

"I am not," Amy admonished, face flushing in anger and embarrassment. She wasn't _that_ short, was she? "_You_ are very tall, and _very_ rude." Once again, she moved around the tree to avoid the tall, rude man, and once again, he followed.

"I've seen you around the village before, haven't I?" he asked.

"Perhaps," Amy replied. With their large settlement being the only one around, save for a few families that strayed far for privacy, it was uncommon to stumble upon strangers. Amy frowned and observed him, hoping to remember him from the market or even the caves, if at all. Dark hair, dark eyes, fair skin; yes, he did look familiar.

"Ah," he smiled triumphantly, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned against the trunk of the tree. "You're Rebekah's friend, aren't you? Amara." And then she realized just who she was talking to.

"Kol," she stated simply.

"So you remember me?" he replied with another smirk. "How strange. I'm sure that I see you in the caves every full moon, but for the life of me, I recall being only children last we met." His eyes roamed over Amy's form slowly. "My, have you grown."

"So have you," she said curtly. "Only more arrogant."

"I'm not all bad," he protested.

"So you say. I'm sure Rebekah had a much different opinion."

"She's my little sister. Of course she dislikes me."

"I don't dislike my brothers."

"I can tell when a person lies, you know," Kol stated.

"And am I?" Amy asked, eyebrows raised.

"I think we both know the answer to that," he replied. They stared at each other for a drawn out moment, silently battling wills. Amy looked away first, earning a victorious smile from Kol.

"As much as I've enjoyed our conversation, I do have other matters to attend to," she said, adjusting her grip on the basket. "So if you'll excuse me." She walked past him towards another tree and was about to reach for another high-hanging peach, but once again was beaten to it. Unlike the previous one, it was held before her eyes. Amy turned to look over her shoulder and found Kol once again, as expected.

"Peace offering," he explained, gesturing for her to take the fruit. She hesitantly took it from him, their fingers brushing slightly, and placed it into her basket.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Since you are no longer in need of assistance, I shall return to my hunt," he said, walking back to where he set his bow and quiver of arrows. "Until we meet again, my dear Amara."

"Try to keep your eyes open," she taunted.

"What was that?" he replied with a smirk, then he disappeared through the trees.

Amy rolled her eyes. _Of course._

**A/N: **Hi. Long time no see. School is out! I'm excited for more time to write. I hope you liked this chapter; I hope it isn't too short. Leave a review and let me know what you think; I would love you forever! Thanks for reading!


	4. Family Feud

**Disclaimer:** I don't own TVD. I own Amy, and the other OC's. That's it.

Chapter 3- Family Feud

**Viking Settlement, New World- 11****th**** Century**

"You're late for supper," Rebekah's voice echoed out into the open yard. "Mother was beginning to worry." She spotted Kol as he emerged from the dense foliage surrounding their family's property, a deer carcass slung over his shoulders.

"The only thing I care about doing at the moment is to sleep," Kol answered, dropping the deer onto the grass before the house. "Did the others return with anything?"

"Does it always have to be a competition between the four of you?" Rebekah asked, frowning in contempt. "Even Henrik is anxious for the day Father lets him go hunting on his own."

Kol smirked and walked over to the well across the yard. He drew the bucket up for a drink. It _was_ true; he and his brothers went out to hunt almost every morning, and it had been a running bet between them to see who could get the best game. Elijah usually won, being the oldest and therefore, the one with the most experience, but Kol persevered.

"You know, I'm surprised you aren't getting into the fun," Kol mocked. "Considering how much time you spend in the forest. Although, pretending to hunt a boar or a deer is different than actually doing it."

"You don't know how to have any fun," Rebekah sneered in reply. "You've lost all sense of your childhood. You aren't even a man yet and you're already jaded, brother. I hope Henrik doesn't end up like you." She stood up from her seat on the bench and stormed inside.

Kol frowned and looked back at the well. He was just doing the duties that were expected of him; did that really mean that he was jaded? He knew how to have fun…right? How long had it been since he had played soldiers with Henrik and his toy wooden swords? Surely he was still _fun_ in his younger brother's eyes.

"Of course I am," he muttered. Kol cleared his throat and looked up at the darkening sky. He stood there for a few minutes, then turned on his heel and walked into the house, eager for food and sleep, and not necessarily in that order.

* * *

The market was a row of shops and stalls along the man road leading into the village; it was always bustling during the afternoon. Aside from the obvious use of buying, selling and trading, the market was the only justifiable source of entertainment and escape from one's home life. Children would run around, playing, and women would gather to talk while looking at whatever the merchants had to sell that day.

Amy accompanied her mother to the market at least once per week, oftentimes straying when conversation with the merchants and other villagers became boring. Today had been no different. She walked down the road, looking at the various vegetables from the farmers and weapons her father displayed before his shop. She even stopped to look at the various fabrics sitting by the entrance of the elderly seamstress, Agnes', shop.

"Well, what do you know?" Amy jumped at the voice so close to her ear. She turned around to see a laughing Kol standing beside her. "Jumpy thing, aren't you?"

"I didn't think I'd see your rude face anytime soon," Amy replied, staring at him with contempt. "What are you doing here?"

"Mother needed to speak with Ayanna and some of the horses needed reshoeing," Kol shrugged. "It turned into an family excursion."

"I didn't mean that," she scoffed. "I meant, why are you _here_, bothering me?"

"Thought it would be fun," he smirked, earning a glare from Amy. "Do you like carrots?" he asked out of the blue.

"Carrots?" she frowned. "I suppose so, why?"

"Saw a bunch over at that stand. I figured that it would be a good way to start a conversation."

"And why would I want to converse with you?" Amy glared, then turned her attention back to the fabric before her, wondering if she should

"Do you think I might try to kill you?" he laughed.

"Possibly." She looked over at him. They were silent for a few second, the hustle and bustle of the market behind them.

"As I've told you before, Amara, I'm not all bad," Kol replied. Amy simply hummed in reply, her focus on the bolt of green fabric that she was examining. Kol frowned and stared at her. He didn't know why, but he had been pondering her for days, her green eyes and her scowl. He had been trying to find the answer every time her face appeared in his head, which resulted in him thinking about her even more. She wasn't anything special; in fact, she was quite average. Maybe slightly more than average, but still, nothing special.

"Elijah!" A shout shook him from his wandering thoughts and Kol looked over his shoulder, and his eyes widened at the scene playing out before him. Amy, as well as many of the other villagers in the market, stopped their activities to focus on the source of the commotion.

Standing in the road, talking, had been Elijah and Tatia, and approaching them furiously was Niklaus, hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.

"Niklaus," Elijah stated calmly as he saw his younger brother. "I thought you were at the blacksmith's with Father."

"He asked that I come to find you," Niklaus replied. "But here I find you. Behind my back with _my_ woman."

"She isn't property, brother," Elijah said with a frown. "And neither she nor I appreciate you referring to her as such." Niklaus looked about ready to lunge for Elijah, but Tatia quickly forced herself between the two of them, hands gently on Niklaus' chest.

"There is no need to get angry," she told him, worry in her eyes. "Elijah was merely asking me to accompany him to the midsummer feast." She smiled, hoping that her words had soothed him, but they only fueled the fire more; Niklaus saw red as he looked at his brother.

"You knew I had wanted to ask her," he practically growled. "And you had to get to her first. Didn't you?"

"Niklaus please stop," Tatia begged, but she was pushed out of the way by Elijah.

"Perhaps I did," he replied. "Perhaps I took a lesson from your tactics when you did the very same thing to me on May Day. Perhaps I wanted a chance to prove I _am_ better suited for Tatia. Better than you."

A collective gasp from came from everyone in the market who witnessed the brothers unsheathe their swords and attack each other. There was chaos; shoppers and merchants running every which way to stay out of the random path their battle was making. Kol, though, stood where he was, practically paralyzed. His brothers had never taken their feud over Tatia any further than harsh words spoken during dinner at home, and occasional instigations in the yard. This was an unbelievable escalation from that, which left Kol speechless.

How could his brothers fight with each other? Especially over a woman. Especially over _Tatia_. They were brothers, and more than that, best friends. Kol had always been envious of their bond when he was younger; he always felt like the third wheel when trying to join in on their fun. Finn was always too strict to fool around with. Then there was Rebekah, but he couldn't play swords with her; father always got mad. By the time Henrik was old enough to do those things, he was at an age where games and toys were silly.

The approaching clangs of his brothers' swords clashing tore Kol from his reflections. He went wide-eyed, grabbed Amy by the waist and pulled her to his chest protectively; only seconds later, Elijah crashed into the table Amy had been beside. Without allowing any time for recovery, Niklaus relentlessly attacked, but Elijah was prepared, rolling out of the way just as the blade was about to pierce his neck.

"What is all this!" A booming yell echoed over the market. By now, a nice-sized crowd had gathered at the edges of the street, watching the fight; they parted as Mikael and a few other men ran into the street and pulled the brothers away from each other.

"Enough," Mikael spoke as quietly as he could, while still getting his point across to his sons. His voice, though, still reached the ears of every person watching. "You have shamed our family. You are men! But you act like children."

"Father," Niklaus began, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Mikael grabbed Niklaus' face in one hand, fingers digging into his jaw.

"I have had enough of your excuses, boy." He spat, backing away from his sons; he eyed them both with disappointment.

As soon as the feuding brothers were dragged off the street, the crowd returned to their previous activities. Kol felt a hollow sensation in his stomach when he caught his father's gaze; there was a disappointment there for him too, although lesser, as if it had been his responsibility to prevent such a public display. A flood of emotions washed over him; shame, anger, fear. He wanted to escape.

"Kol?" Amy's soft voice caught his attention. He turned his head to look at her, only to find that she was still against his chest, his hands gripping her waist. He let her go immediately and backed away. Before she could say another word, he had turned on his heel and stormed off.

"Kol!" Amy called after him. "Kol!" Although their conversation had been…lukewarm at best, she had seen the look in his eyes after witnessing his brothers fighting, and she was worried. She didn't know what he was feeling, but if Alexander and Cristofer ever reached a point where they fought like that, she knew that it would've been devastating.

And that's why she knew that she couldn't run after him. She had to leave him alone. For now.

**A/N: **Hello again. Back for another chapter, I see. I feel so bashful and I don't know why. I had a feeling this was going to suck, but then I kept second guessing myself; I hope you like it. Leave a review and let me know what you think.

Thanks to **bbymojo, hayleyb29, **and** PrincessofSilence** for leaving a review on the previous chapter. Totally made my day. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reading!


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